Wednesday 25th August

 

25/08/04 Day 53

How is it possible that Heather could sleep through that blood-curdling, soul-destroying dog that got barked all night, occasionally being accompanied by the echoes of dogs across the city, reminiscent of that all time classic scene in 101 dalmations. That I believe should be re-done to show consideration for the pain suffered by those humans asleep at the time.

We roused ourselves in fairly good time and descended into town, purchasing some confusingly cheap patisseries on the way. I later calculated that on a one pound a meal budget, I could buy no less than 12+ items for brekky & lunch!

Our first stop was the cinema box office, which turned out to open at 11, not 9, so we headed further west to the History Museum to try and add to our slowly growing knowledge of Balkan history. The museum was a strange building, like a school complex only more run down, with an array of military machines scattered around the grounds, although completely stripped out and vanished and rapidly disappearing in the wheat grass.

The exhibits turned out to fill only one room and were aimed to be a lasting memory of what life was like in sarajevo during the seige. A lot of knowledge was assumed, but with the help of some UK newspapers we'd did manage to piece some basics together (see History section later)

By the time we were back at the box office (a.k.a. bench outside supposed cinema) it was 11am and we queued up - on our own, the others just 'upped' - for our Spiderman II tickets.

Having returned our guesthouse to a delighted crazy-info-lady we 'did' the town in the remaining hours of the morning (a few handescript churches, a bit of a mosque and a couple of bazaars) before finding a fantastic Cevapi joint. So lurrth. Here we felt like one of the locals as we ate exactly what everyone else had (they only served one thing) and drank a glass of yoghurt.

We decided that, as the hottest part of the day had arrived, we would take the wheel climbto our house for a toilet stop etc., thus this being & our first city so far that does not have a Mac Donalds!

We split up in the afternoon to satisfy our respective requirements (Heather to shop and I to find some 'spends') So there followed 2 hours on the Internet where I whipping It personal emails, later augmented to an 18 on the free internet outside the film festival rehousal place. Meanwhile Heather bought another Turkish style Souvenir - a fine silk scarf, hand-made, we are certain, in sorajevo.

And then came the time that was Spiderman II. The cilm was great, but the location & company ...? well...

Take 1 huge gymnasium, 1 giant projector Screen, about 1000 excited kids and a good looking woman with no shame and a microphone and the result is bedlam. Perhaps cinema is not very common in Bosnia (officially, generation was subtitled, not dubbed), but these children were high as kites! So we sat, surrounded by screaming kids, while the woman with the help of a courtesy cows and a penguin, wanted them into a frenzy over milka chocolate (of which we got a free piece!

The first half of the film was oh, with confined clapping and cheering at only the most justifyable places but the quiet 'boring' parts soon became difficult to hear (the children of course being able to read the subtitles!) and by the end there was clapping and stamping almost 'non-stop' dancing in a concert style best as the 'kiss' built up. So we missed the 'but without you I am dead anyway' speech (ng that it was difficult (spllt in the words!) but greatly enjoyed the film all the same - 33 pence for a blockbuster, free chocolate and free popcost... bargain...

Dinner for me was scutuik - ruined only by Heather's dissatisfaction and redeemed again on counting the change where we had actually gained two kuks! Essilly the great culinaryachievement of the day was the picking, without guidance, a suitable cake for Heather.

Before bed I was ordered up stairs to have our plaztaxi recital by mad-crazy woman, but while in mid-spit, stupidly asked how long it would take us to get to the bus station. What followed was representative of every intercome we had with that family, where first you are told to "sit down, spit down", then a piece of paper is fetched to on which random numbers are to be written, whose incomprehensibly prompt the calling of son #1, who, facilitating a shouted argument, gets son #2, who, in halting English, repeats back to you your original question, altered in all the important details by the 'chinese' shouts, and the whole thing is done again - this time with better results.

By this time I was quite ready for bed and it was a peaceful night, lacking in dog chorus.